From Home
by electrakitty74
Summary: Angel's past, complete with family issues. . .


**Title: **From Home  
**Author:** Sarah  
**Feedback:** Love it, please leave it. . .positive or negative  
**Pairing: **TeenAngst!Angel and a few OCs  
**Word Count: **1860  
**Rating: **R  
**Genre: **Angst  
**Summary: **A bit more backstory on Angel for our RP. PM me if you want to know more.  
**Notes: **Co-written by Mel and me, just 'cause we could. Forgive the Babelfish translation, we're both stupid white girls, and decided that even bad Spanish was better than English.  
**Special Thanks:** Thanks Shan, Tiff, Jen, Diddy, all y'all, 'cause I you know I love you and you know why.  
**Spoilers: **nope, none  
**Warnings: **A little violence, swearing.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own 'em, I just put 'em through hell.

_"Adiós mama, estoy saliendo,_" Angel called in the general direction of the kitchen.

((Goodbye, mama, I'm going out.))

The reply echoed back: _"¿Ángel, mijo, cuando usted estará detrás?" _

((Angel, sweetheart, when will you be back?))

_"Un mama más último,"_ Angel called back, standing next to the front door. _"Necesito ir antes de que el papa consiga casero."_

((Later mama, I need to go before papa gets home.))

Her mother appeared in the kitchen door, sighing in exasperation to see her son standing there in a wig and dress.  
"_¿Ángel, mijo, por qué usted insiste en usar estas ropas?" _her mother asked, touching the front of the straight dark wig. "Usted sabe que encoleriza a su padre."

((Angel, honey, why do you insist on wearing these clothes? You know it angers your father.))

_"Mama, hablaremos de él más adelante. Necesito ahora ir." _Angel bent down and kissed her mother. _"Te quiero," _

((Mama, we'll talk about it later. I have to go now. Love you.))

_"Ámele también, mijo," _Mama said, kissing Angel's cheek. Angel smiled and went to open the door, suddenly face to face with her father, his key held up and ready to put into the lock. His face changed from surprise to complete horror when he saw his son standing in the doorway.

((Love you too, sweetheart.))

_"¡Ángel!" _he shouted, angrily _"¡Vaya detrás adentro ahora y cambie las ropas! ¡La gente pensará que usted es un mariposa!" _

((Angel, go back inside right now and change clothes! People will think you are a faggot(lit. "butterfly")!)) 

Angel's terror gave way to anger quickly at her father's greeting. _"¿Por qué no debo parecer cuál soy, papa?" _she shot back.  
((Why shouldn't I look like what I am, Papa?))  
_"¡No hay hijo el mío un mariposa!" _Papa shouted back.

((No son of mine is a faggot!))

Angel shook her head, trying hard to keep from calling her father names, especially in front of her mother.  
_"Papa, nos dejó habla de un este cierto otro lugar, una cierta otra hora," _Angel said, her tone low, her composure intact. _"No con el mama aquí." _

((Papa, let's talk about this some other place, some other time, Not with Mama here))

_"¡Ningún mariposa vivirá siempre en mi casa!" _Papa's voice escalated, though Angel never thought that was possible.

((No faggot will ever live in my house!))

_"Papa, por favor," _Angel continued, desperately trying to keep the peace.

((Papa, please,))

_"¡Le deseo hacia fuera!" _he shouted, _"No tendré ningún monstruo en mi  
casa!" _

((I want you out! I will have no freaks in my house!))

_"¿Papa, usted nunca escucha, le hace?" _she screamed, all composure gone. _"¡Es no solamente su hijo un mariposa, él es un chupaverga, un chaperon!" _

((Papa, you never listen, do you? Not only is your son a faggot, he's a cocksucker, a gay prostitute!))

Rosalee was pouring over her history homework, wondering why she needed to  
know, or cared really, about the first battle of the Civl War, when the  
yelling erupted downstairs. Her back stiffened, her pencil frozen in  
mid-air, as she listened. She slowly put down the pencil, closed her  
textbook, and crept across the floor to the doorway. Pausing at the top of  
the stairs, she continued listening to the angry voices rising. _Papa  
and Angel..._

_"¡Le deseo hacia fuera!" _Papa shouted, _"No tendré ningún monstruo en mi  
casa!" _

(("I want you out!" "I will have no freaks in my house!"))

The younger sibling immediately tore down the stairs, throwing herself in  
the direction of the argument, her temper flaring. Nobody talked to Angel  
that way. _"Papa! ¡Ella no es monstruo, no dice tales cosas! ¿Cómo pueden  
usted ser así que el grosero?" _

(("She's not a freak, don't say such things!" "How can you be so mean?"))

_"Rosalee Damita, éste no es ninguna de su preocupación. Vaya detrás  
arriba," _he replied sharply.

(("this is none of your concern. Go back upstairs."))

_"¡Es mi preocupación! Ella no es monstruo, papa. Tómelo detrás," _she  
insisted, crossing her arms over her chest, glancing to her sister before  
turning her attention back to their father.

(("It is my concern! She's not a freak, Papa. Take it back."))

_"Dije que no es ninguna de su preocupación, hija. Ahora vaya arriba. ¡Y  
parada que llama a su hermano le!" _he snapped, taking a step towards her.

(("I said it is none of your concern, daughter. Now go upstairs. And stop  
calling your brother a she!"))

_"Ella es ella, papa. ¿Por qué no puede usted ver eso? ¿Por qué no  
puede usted conseguir eso a través de su cráneo grueso?" _she cried, her  
anger rising.

(("She _is_ a she, Papa. Why can't you see that?" "Why can't you get  
that through your thick skull?"))

_"¡Rosalee Damita, bastante! ¡Su hermano es un mariposa y él no es agradable  
aquí! ¡Arriba ahora!" _he bellowed, startling the younger sibling only  
briefly before she took another step towards him, her eyes full of rage.

(("Rosalee Damita, enough! Your brother is a faggot and he is not welcome  
here! Upstairs now!"))

_"¡Ella es mi hermana, papa! ¡Usted no puede lanzarla hacia fuera! ¿Dónde  
ella vivirá? ¿Qué sucedió al amor incondicional, papa? ¡Cómo atrevimiento  
usted! ¡La hacen nada pero sea ella misma!" _Rosalee cried, tears beginning  
to stream down her streaks. She could hear Mama sobbing behind her, but  
her attention was completely focused on Papa.

(("She is my sister, papa! You can't throw her out! Where will she live?  
What happened to unconditional love, papa? How dare you! She's done  
nothing but be herself!"))

Angel had stayed quiet, stunned into silence by her little sister's outburst, but she couldn't stay still long.  
"Rosie, _hermanita,_" she said softly, reaching out to touch her enraged sibling's shoulder. "Don't, sweetie. Think it's best that I go," she continued, looking at her Papa, who seemed to want to look anywhere but at her. "I'll find someplace to go. Been saving money for awhile now. Money he doesn't know about." Angel hugged her little sister. "I'll call, hermanita. Let you know where I am. Love you, Rosie. _Mama, te quiero. Papa. . . _" She trailed off, struggling to find something to say to him. She shook her head, hugged and kissed her mother and turned towards the door, not bothering to take anything with her but her backpack. She had wanted to leave her parents' house for a long time. The only thing that had stopped her was Rosie. It occurred to her to take her little sister with her, but she knew that her lifestyle was not a good one for a young girl. She wanted more for Rosie. Wanted her to finish school and become something special.

_"Angel! Hermana! ¡Te quiero!" _

(("Sister! I love you!"))

At first, the tears that slipped down Rosalee's cheeks were ones of  
sadness, but they quickly turned to tears of anger. As her sister made her  
way out the front door, Rosalee turned on her heel, facing their father  
once again.

_"Papa! ¿Vea lo que usted ha hecho?" _she cried, her voice wavering. The  
fourteen year old girl worried endlessly about her sister when she wasn't  
at home. She knew exactly what Angel did out there - she wasn't stupid -  
and the idea that something could happen to her older sister; that somebody  
would harm her, overwhelmed her at times.

(("See what you have done?"))

"Rosalee Damita Dumott Schunard," Papa began, his voice icy, _"Arriba. Ahora." _

(("Upstairs. Now."))

_"No, Papa," _she retorted, folding her arms over her chest. _"¡Usted no  
tiene ninguna derecha el tratar de ella esa manera! ¡Ella es su niño! ¡Su  
propia carne y sangre!" _

(("You have no right treating her that way! She is your child! Your own  
flesh and blood."))

_"¡Mi propia carne y sangre no vestirán como una muchacha! ¡No hay niño el  
mío un mariposa!" _Papa snapped, stepping towards Rosalee, fire in his  
eyes. If his daughter hadn't been in a raging state all of her own, she  
might have been frightened by what she saw in her father's eyes.

(("My own flesh and blood will not dress like a girl! No child of mine  
will be a faggot!"))

The young latina opened her mouth to yell back, when she was interrupted  
by Mama's timid, yet strong voice. _"¡Por favor, parada! ¡Pare esta  
griterío! ¡Pare el usar de estas palabras terribles! ¡No más!" _She was  
crying even as she spoke, and it was all Rosalee could do to listen to her  
mother, stop yelling, and comfort her. However, the girl was too far gone;  
all she could concentrate on was making Papa see the error of his ways.

(("Please, stop! Stop this yelling! Stop using these terrible words! No  
more!"))

Papa spun towards Mama, his hand raised. _"¡Su hijo es un mariposa! ¿Usted  
es aceptable con esto? ¿Usted acepta esto? ¡No aceptaré esto! ¡Moriré  
antes de que acepte siempre esto, esto, trayectoria repugnante que él ha  
elegido!" _

(("Your son is a faggot! You are okay with this? You accept this? I will  
not accept this! I will die before I ever accept this, this, disgusting  
path he has chosen!"))

Rosalee's eyes widened, and she stepped between her parents, holding her  
hands in front of her angrily. _"¡Cómo atrevimiento usted, papa! Ponga su  
mano abajo. ¡Cómo el atrevimiento usted amenaza a mama! No sirves para  
nada!" _

(("How dare you, Papa! Put your hand down. How dare you threaten Mama! You  
are good for nothing!"))

The hand that made contact with Rosalee's cheek barely stung; it was the  
shock of Mama's sobs ringing in her ears that broke her heart. When she  
finally opened her eyes, she lifted them slowly to Papa, her gaze cold.  
His own brown eyes bore into her soul, sending a chill down her spine, as  
she waited for him to say something; anything.

_"Salga." _

(("Get out."))

His words were firm and clear. He paused for a few seconds, before he  
continued. _"¿Usted desea defender a su hermano? Usted verá cómo él vive.  
Salga." _

(("You want to defend your brother? You will see how he lives. Get out.  
Now."))

The young teenager was stunned at first. Get out? Where would she go? What  
would she do? _If Angel can survive out there, so can I._ Rosalee  
nodded once, and turned towards the stairs.

Papa grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the door. _"No, niño estúpido.  
Usted se va con nada. Salga de mi casa!" _

(("No, stupid child. You leave with nothing. Get out of my house!"))

Rosalee glared at her father, pulling the door open in a violent rage.  
_"Si! Vete al infierno!" _she spat, refusing to look at Papa. She paused  
outside, holding the door open, and called over her shoulder shakily, _"Te quiero,  
mama. Te quiero mucho. Estoy apesadumbrado." _

(("Yes! Go to hell!" "I love you, mama. I love you very much. I'm sorry."))


End file.
